


Alejandro

by whatkindoftea (haeli)



Series: Lady Gaga Throwdown [1]
Category: DBSK|Tohoshinki|TVXQ
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 22:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haeli/pseuds/whatkindoftea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I am well aware that Lady Gaga is a problematic artist.  There is a reason why these songs were chosen and not others like "Born this Way." If you want to talk about that I am more than happy, but hit me up on tumblr or message me please.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Alejandro

**Author's Note:**

> I am well aware that Lady Gaga is a problematic artist. There is a reason why these songs were chosen and not others like "Born this Way." If you want to talk about that I am more than happy, but hit me up on tumblr or message me please.

There are cigarette burns on the bed spread, the edges of the holes melted and blackened into the fabric, distorting the generic diamond pattern.  Yunho wonders how many of them were smoked alone.

 

He wraps his lips around the filtered end and inhales slowly, the smoke curling into his lungs and burning sensation through him.  He holds his breath and flicks his gaze up to watch his client in the mirror over his shoulder.  He’s young, but wealthy enough to afford the discretion he needs.  It’s often unglamorous and hidden, just like the skeevy motel room.

 

Yunho exhales to obscure the sight of the client. He looks so completely out of place in the dirty, dim room.  But Yunho still feels eyes on him, tracing the outline of his shoulders beneath the plain white undershirt, possessive and hungry.  There’s openness in the gaze as well, and it’s unsettling.

 

Yunho glances at the tidy little stack of hundred thousand won bills, and reminds himself: It’s just sex.

 

He understands this in a graphic, hideous way.  It’s a lesson learned from bad nights on his knees in alleyways where money comes with a slap, and better nights in hotel rooms - nights like tonight - where a bed makes faking easier.

 

It’s just sex.

 

There’s movement behind him.  “Would you ever come away with me?”

 

The question isn’t unexpected.  They’ve been building up to it over months, but it still jolts unpleasantly through him, ugly and sinking as Yunho lets the words wash over him.  He takes another drag to buy himself time.  In the mirror, he watches the young man sit up, the sheet pooling around his waist, broad chest and shoulders on full display.  He’s tall and toned, face framed by playful long hair that flops and flicks to obscure large brown eyes.  He’s handsome and charming and wealthy, and nothing Yunho wants.

 

He turns to face the man, only to see that Changmin isn’t looking at him.  He’s looking at his hands, fingers twisting into sheets to distract himself from his curiosity.  It’s vulnerability, and Yunho isn’t moved, won’t let himself be.

 

“No.”

 

Yunho exhales the word, and his view of Changmin is obscured once again.  He pretends he doesn’t see the way the man’s shoulder curl in slightly at the rejection and how his eyes narrow. Changmin is beautiful and rich and not used to dismissal.

 

“Yunho, I-” the name is said with a lilt of familiarity, entirely undeserved in Yunho’s opinion given their circumstances.

 

“Don’t say my name like that,” Yunho cuts across Changmin’s declaration, “you don’t know me.”   This is bad business, Yunho knows this, knows he’s making a mistake, knows he’s losing a client.  A good client, but he can’t handle it any longer.

 

He can’t deal with Changmin leaving gifts behind on nightstands, the secret smiles, the way he gasps Yunho’s name into the stale motel air during their appointments. It’s too much, too honest.  Yunho doesn’t need honest.

 

“But you could leave this,” Changmin waves a hand, like the peeling wallpaper is commentary on Yunho’s life choices.  Perhaps it is, but Yunho doesn’t need to hear it from this privileged child.

 

“Changmin! No.”  The words snap from his lips and hang in the air for a moment, stunning Changmin into stillness, until it becomes too awkward to just sit there.

 

Still silent in the face of such blatant refusal, Changmin slides from the bed, and Yunho stops himself from drinking in the sight of Changmin’s nakedness, long legs carrying him in the space two strides to where his clothes hang in the dark closet. Suit pants, belt, pressed button up all cover exposed skin, and Changmin becomes colder with each layer he puts between them.

 

Yunho watches it all, finishing his cigarette.  He gives himself the duration to prepare for this to be the last time he’ll see the young man’s face.

 

Changmin finishes his last button, and finally looks at Yunho, for the first time in the last fifteen minutes.  There’s hollow laughter.  “You could never love me?”

 

“It’s not that,” even though Yunho is sure that he could never love Changmin.  Not after the money that has been exchanged and the things he’s done for it.

 

“Then what?”

 

“Do you need me to say it?”

 

“Yes.” Changmin steps forward, trying to be aggressive and back Yunho into a corner.

 

Unintimidated - he hasn’t been intimidated by a John since he was twenty-one - Yunho squares his shoulders and quietly says the truth, clear and deliberate.  “I don’t want this, Changmin.  You’re an idiot, probably delusional, thinking I’ll fall in love with you and want to run away because of the money you pay me and because you look at me when I fuck you.” It’s not the first time he’s had to break someone of this illusion.  “I don’t need you to save me; I need you to shut up.”

 

There’s a glint of hurt before affection is snuffed out in those brown eyes, and Yunho feels accomplished and sad all at once.

 

“Fine.”  Changmin pulls on his suit jacket, fitted and impeccable.  No evidence to what they were doing merely an hour before.  The way Changmin had arched into Yunho’s mouth with breathless gasps, how he had cried out as he came beneath Yunho.  No one will be the wiser - not his associates, not his socialite family, not his celebutante girlfriend.  “It’s just sex.”

 

Yunho couldn’t agree more.

  



End file.
